


Cracks in the Wall

by snovyda



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Angst, I'm Sorry, Injury Recovery, M/M, This Is Sad, big time, it's basically a stream of consciousness, pondering on feelings, post Mission: Impossible - Fallout, the author is yearning and projecting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:20:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23705260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snovyda/pseuds/snovyda
Summary: After Kashmir, Benji takes some time for himself to recover and ponder on the recent events.
Relationships: Benji Dunn & Ethan Hunt, Benji Dunn/Ethan Hunt
Comments: 7
Kudos: 30





	Cracks in the Wall

Grey. The wall was grey, with several minute cracks in its old paint. The cracks all met in one spot at an angle that, for some reason, made Benji’s head spin slightly, like a little whirlwind. Though his head was already spinning anyway, for a number of reasons.

If anyone were to ask him, he honestly would be unable to tell them why exactly he was here, in a room in an old and far-from-luxurious hotel. Something in him wasn’t letting him go home. Not yet. Home felt like a strangely alien place to come back to, after Kashmir. After the nuclear bombs. After the rope around his neck. It felt like he should better stay here for a while. Maybe it was the fact that no-one here knew him, so he wouldn’t have to talk to anybody. Anyone barely even saw him, because he only went out on extremely rare occasions. He wasn’t really hiding though – if anyone from work needed him, they would find him anywhere on the planet, that much he was certain about.

Not that he really expected them to go looking. The IMF was once again without its Secretary while still needing to resolve some issues with the CIA. Benji didn’t envy whoever was in charge of that. And here he was, in a decrepit hotel room, in solitude and quiet. The quiet was as peaceful as it was suffocating. At times Benji would give anything just to hear a friendly voice, to have company. Those moments passed after some time. He just needed to not think about that for long enough.

Just like now, when he lay on his bed staring at the wall opposite him, feeling light-headed and slightly dizzy. Some voice at the back of his head was telling him that it was probably because he hadn’t eaten anything since the previous morning. Not that he could eat much anyway – his bruised and injured throat would not allow him any solid food for at least a couple more weeks, if not more. Benji wondered darkly if choking on a mouthful of pizza would be worth it as a way to go. He decided to save that thought for later. Just like the thought that he should probably eat something.

It was odd: in this hotel room, Benji could pretend like he didn’t exist. Hell, he felt like he didn’t exist. It was just a conglomeration of his thoughts and memories. Some of which he _wished_ didn’t exist.

His mind kept replaying the past few days to him over and over again. Apostles, Plutonium, nuclear weapons, Lane’s cold stare, the rope tightening around his throat, dying, _actually dying_ , Ethan… Ethan looking at him with that soft look that was equally encouraging and mocking him. Ethan reassuring and cheering him on, Ethan smiling. Ethan smiling not at him. Ethan laughing at his joke, but not really noticing him. This was usually the point where Benji’s throat got tight in a way that was somehow more painful than the hanging had been.

Ethan was okay. Benji had asked how he was doing and gotten the update that Ethan had been discharged three days ago. He should be happy for Ethan, and he _was_ happy. He missed being able to talk to him, but apparently this was how things were going, and who was Benji to fight that?

He stared at his phone again. He didn’t exactly expect anyone to text or call him, and indeed, nobody did. Nobody had, aside the aforementioned update on Ethan’s wellbeing, given to him by Luther in a short text message. Benji contemplated throwing the phone at the wall and creating a few more cracks to stare at, but decided that he would still need his phone after all.

He missed Ethan. He hated to admit it, he hated himself for it, but he really missed him. There was something about Ethan that was able to soothe him, make him believe that everything was going to be okay… “Something”. It was _everything_ about Ethan that made him feel that way. Benji hated himself for feeling that way because of Ethan. Hated himself for falling into this pit.

His throat became impossibly tight and he coughed, hoping to get rid of this lump in it. He immediately regretted that, as it was hard for him to stop coughing once he started. Eventually his coughs faded, leaving him with tears in his eyes and an even more sore throat and aching chest. He wondered what would happen if he just died here in this room. How long it would take for someone to find his body, how long it would take for someone he knew to find out. The answer was trivial: he would be found by room service soon enough. And the IMF would know immediately.

He needed someone, _anyone_ , as desperately as the air he was now gulping for. He needed Ethan. Too bad Ethan didn’t need him. That was the painful reality he had to accept. Ethan never called or texted, never asked Benji how he was doing, not once. Benji had decided to remove himself from Ethan’s surroundings, having figured out that Ethan didn’t need someone as miserable as him around. Ethan was probably busy with his own recovery and… someone else. Benji wouldn’t dare ruin Ethan’s recovery with his misery and his scratchy voice he barely remembered the sound of due to its misuse. Ethan was always nice, but Benji could not be deluded anymore into thinking that he could actually _matter_ to anyone beyond the level of basic human decency. Especially to Ethan.

What Benji _did_ mattered. His job mattered, and Benji was glad that he was doing something important. And yet at the same time, he knew that he as a person didn’t matter. That a person with the same skill set could do the same job as he did just as well as him or even better. That’s why he needed to get better, to be ready for their next mission, to be someone his teammates could rely on, someone _Ethan_ could rely on.

That was all there was to him. That was all he was. That was all he had to be. He just wished it didn’t hurt so much to realize that… But he was going to. He wouldn’t let Ethan see this side of him, wouldn’t upset him with these nonsensical problems. At least he could do that. He was going to get back to work, but until then, there was going to be just him, his silent room and the chaotic cracks in the wall.


End file.
